The Art of Quality Time or Time that qualifies as a masterpiece.

time to save - stockton, ca. 2012.

Time is an Art, much like its a business. How you spend yours qualifies how beautiful your life will be. Spend it wisely and you'll have a masterpiece. Waste it and you'll have nothing.

I recall spending much of my senior year of college working. It's not that I didn't entirely enjoy the curriculum or my teachers, it's that I found myself having to work hard to pay for school. And that's where my mind wanders back to 22. I think back fondly to the times I spent in and out of college and there's nothing that compares to my time spent in class. Although it wasn't until I returned to school five years later for my Interior Design degree that I could truly appreciate that time.

My design teacher and mentor, Anne taught me a great many things, most had nothing to do with school and a lot to do with practical application of a business. Nonetheless Anne introduced me to different periods of art, furniture, creation & design. My favorite part of the curriculum was the practical application. Thankfully she provided me with the equivalent of full masters in work experience within a two to three year span. 

The experience was always rewarding and unlike my senior year of college I never put either school or work last. I placed my time between both equally and rarely missed either. Although there were many sleepless nights and long days with many skipped meals I graduated. I earned my design degree while working two jobs and carrying a full course load yet, somehow, I never noticed where all the time went because it was exactly where I wanted to be. 

By now you're wondering... Why the ramble?

I found myself having dinner and a glass of wine alone on a lovely outdoor patio last week following a movie. Now it wasn't that I was being nosy. But I happened to overhear a woman telling a man about how he wasted her time. How he couldn't get the hint it was time and she shouldn't be telling him it's time. As the waiter left their dinner, she continued to say that he let her believe they had a future and how it had been all his fault that it was now over.

And at no point in her raving & ranting at the man did she take any personal responsibility. When she was done talking the woman left without eating. I watched the man unfold his napkin and begin to eat his dinner. He must have caught me with a look of shock because he shook his head and smiled before saying, “The chicken is delicious. Did you order the chicken?”

I shook my head and pointed to the wine & bread. 

He said to me, “I bet you think I'm heartless for sitting here and eating like this. Well here's the thing, I've saved up to bring her to this place liked she asked me to. I bought clothes and shoes I couldn't afford and I haven't eaten anything remotely food-like for a week or more. I did everything she asked of me. I even brought her to this restaurant that I hate. Look I won't plead my case to you but throwing out one of the best meals I've had in weeks is something I can't do. You can't blame me.”

I smiled and said nothing. Of course I couldn't blame him.

But with that encounter I was reminded of how conflicted human nature is. 

There's always things that others do. We can let them change us or affect us or we can simply choose not to be. We can hold firm to the moment and take hold of it. But with that realization comes the responsibility of owning our actions and choices. 

The woman had been wrong. The man did not make her do anything she did not want to do already. He didn't even make her stay. She chose to be in a relationship with that man. She chose to believe they had a future. My guess is that, much like dinner that night, she didn't bother to ask him if there was a future. What's worse is that it was her fault she was there. She wanted to be there up until she left. Why say that? She could've left any time she wanted. It wasn't necessary to continue if she needed to manipulate that man into doing something that didn't occur to him already. 

So what's the point? Everything is a choice. You are a reflection of your choices. You embody and represent them. How you spend your time is up to you. 

I don't regret the past. I don't regret going to work full-time over school. I don't regret going back to school for design at a later time. I don't regret my mistakes. I don't regret writing. It's been a joy. The best time of my life was spent writing. The shortest story written was far more fulfilling than anything else. Time has allowed me to appreciate all that I've been fortunate to do. 

So before you waste your time or someone else's... Think: Is this what I really want and where I want to be? If not, maybe its time to rethink things. It's OK if you aren't in the right place now. We all find our way. Maybe you'll be surprised. 

To create a work of art from your life you must be where you want. For you see... Time is an Art. And Art is always up to you.

What qualifies a life to be a masterpiece? Time well spent. 

Are you spending your time wisely? 

Enjoy,

Kisses, m.

Replicate

Sometimes I rhyme slow

Sometimes I rhyme quick

Sometimes I like to go swimming after midnight and replicate.

Sometimes I like to replicate...

Sometimes you like to duplicate. 

It's nothing like Fight Club.

And you love wasting time. 

Especially yours when you try to waste mine.

Stop wasting time playing games by punishing and lying to yourself. 

Are we having fun yet?

It's your game not mine.

It's always fun because its not fun for you.

Fun! No?

Maybe you should quit.

Why?

Because you shouldn't do anything if its not fun anymore.

It's fun for me...

for always.

Replicate.

Duplicate.

How about integrate? 

Collaborate?

Nah.

You wouldn't be interested.

Ah but its not same way I'm not interested in you and its not about you... Never is.

But you want it to be... All about you.

I'm not interested. I'm not Sorry. 

Go ahead and cry. Someone somewhere will drink your tears for breakfast. Yum.

Anyhoo, 

This is better.

Replicated. Duplicated. Never Collaborated.

Fun.

Is it fun yet? Of course it is... For me.

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

It's Later Justin Timberlake...

It's later.

I'm writing about Justin Timberlake and you're  wondering what it means and I'll tell you but not just yet.

You're not ready.

Why?

Because you're still making excuses about the girl that you'll never pursue & ache for her kiss. You'll say she met someone else first and blame all the things in-between that aren't really there. There where she stands and loves you, you'll make another excuse for denying that kiss. It's a memory, a bizarre memory in the present. 

Like TV?

Nothing like the TV. 

Real.

Present.

Stop Making Excuses.

It's painful to watch real life not happen because you're afraid to let it.

And its a bizarre love triangle situation that reminds me of a song and now I have to hear it. 

Am I going to tell you about Justin Timberlake now?

Not yet.

But I do like his new album, suit & tie. It's smooth. 

And that smooth album makes me think of a smooth panda wearing a suit & tie, his broken television and a lot of traffic on a Sunday morning longer than some time ago but earlier than a forgotten Fairytale.  

The Panda had a suit, a Rabbit and a plan but I didn't catch their name only their game. A game that didn't end well because the Rabbit wanted to say "what's up" but didn't because he was distracted by that thought of me and the Panda. 

a girl, a panda and a rabbit walk into an art gallery...

Bizarre?

Indeed.

And now its later and here's the thing: I met Justin Timberlake last week. 

[liar? hush!]

I did meet Justin Timberlake... The Rat Terrier last week. He's rather sweet. And knows exactly how to stay quiet. He happened to stop me on my morning walk. So I picked up Justin Timberlake and returned him to his owner who was walking toward me quickly. As she hugged, kissed and squeezed JT like he'd been lost at sea, she said to me without recourse or reason:

“I can't imagine my life without Justin Timberlake. He's everything I need. No man could ever take his place. Once a man did try to come between us, but I told him how it was... You feel me?” 

I smiled and started walking again. Before long she yelled out to me, “Do you have a dog?” I didn't answer her, but I waved goodbye to Justin Timberlake and kept moving. 

You weren't ready for that. 

But...

Hopefully you're ready for the girl. 

Or the world.

Now or Later is a terrible thing to waste. Even if its only a candy.

So if you're ready... 

Then you should GO!

A couple of beers and you're offended...

A couple of beers and you're offended... Or things you shouldn't say sober while playing a record.

...I'm not drinking. That's what I tell him. I mean that's what I'll say. When he asks I'll say it. Or not.

It's not really the things you'll say. It's the things you'll do. I'm definitely not drinking a beer right now.

Maybe later? Maybe not. Why not?

Because the things you say aren't what you mean and things people mean to say are the things they'll never do. You have to love passive aggression.

But I'm not drinking a beer. I'm writing.

So, I'm listening to Sean Rowe. Not drinking. Writing. It's a writer's life for me? It's a life. A wonderful life. I'm not saying what I mean, but you get the point that I'm listening to music and writing. I'm writing about art this afternoon followed by a few people that I don't really know but might have met.

One person I don't know and haven't met is Sean Rowe but I have his new album spinning. It's the loveliest thing: a record. The best part about it being a record is that it was free because I asked for it. [*Thank you AntiRecords and Epitaph] It's a novelty because the only people who still have records besides moi are my DJ friends and the hipsters that are all snatching up records & players in the fear that they may soon leave this planet. People have been saying that for 20+ years now...

I continue to own records. I just picked up a new one, Sean Rowe, for free.

And I'm still not drinking.

Back to the art that should be free. It is free. Sort of and not really. It's online to see and free. It's in a gallery but not always free. And somewhere, definitely somewhere there's a beautiful work of art on an ugly wall hiding away miserably for no one to see because it wasn't and won't be free.

Now there's a question or two: Is it still ART if no one else can see it? What's the point of "one of a kind" if no one else can see it? Seems rather meaningless. Kind of like drinking.

It's meaningless to discuss meaningless art and with my last thought the record ends.

When the record ends with a skip it reminds me of days long gone when I used to hit the wall to make the floor vibrate and reset the player. But that's a memory from a very long time ago when passing someone on the street meant you stopped and said hello. Most people don't stop and say hello... but some still do. Now there's a recent memory I'd completely forgotten that makes me smile. After I finish my passing memory with a smile I reach over to put the needle back onto the record and before Sean Rowe can start to sing I begin to remember to say...

I'm not drinking.